


In His Arms

by snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/snowmissus
Summary: A Sequel to Waking Up is Sweeter.Thorin wakes up.





	In His Arms

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to Jonna, the Bilbo to my Thorin

Pain is what blossoms in Thorin’s world when he wakes again. He doesn’t expect to wake. Well, he doesn’t expect to wake in such pain. What Thorin expects is to be greeted by the halls of his forefathers, by the Maker himself. Instead, his world is one of sharp pain and that alone blocks his vision from the world surrounding him. 

If this is his fate after everything, Thorin cannot help but think it must be punishment for his recent actions. 

There’s a strange weight against him. 

Thorin wants to move, wants to find out what has him held down, but he cannot seem to lift his limbs in any direction. The pain is practically holding him down. All he can do is breathe through the pain. It settles in his chest, near his heart. 

Where Azog drove his blade through. 

He can feel his heart pounding with each pulse of pain. There’s something behind it. It’s another beat… another pulse that keeps rhythm with his own. 

It’s a struggle to open his eyes, to push the pain away enough for him to finally see the world around him. The room… is not what he expected. He expected to see the halls of Mahal, stark stone and perhaps the soft face of his mother, or his brother or… 

What he doesn’t think he’d see is the form of a hobbit, face pressed against his collarbone, his body curled against Thorin’s as if to cover him from the cold of the room. 

And he is in Erebor. 

He stares at Bilbo, studying his features. His hair is a mess and there’s a bandage wrapped around his head, hidden slightly underneath the fringe of his hair. 

Thorin manages to lift his hand after an aborted first attempt, cupping Bilbo’s cheek gently. It’s a touch he needs, because even with the weight, Thorin isn’t quite sure that Bilbo is real and not a figment of his own imaginings. 

His touch disturbs the peaceful expression on Bilbo’s face, interrupting his sleep. Slowly, as Bilbo pulls himself from sleep, he opens his eyes and stares at Thorin. Just as slowly, realization dawns in his eyes. 

“You…” Bilbo starts, his voice rough. He pauses, clearing his throat, before casting a stern look at Thorin, “you absolute _idiot_.”

Before Thorin can say anything else, Bilbo presses up and brings their mouths together. 

Thorin thinks he can ignore the pain a while longer. 


End file.
